Life's Little Details: Knitting, Sewing, Green Living, Frugal Living and Cooking In A Little Corner of Southern French Countryside.

Monday, February 07, 2005

Once a Hooker, Always a Hooker

I have a really great excuse for not blogging much this week. I wish it were because my mother is in town, but sadly, it's because I'm a wee bit under the weather. I've spent most of the past two days in bed sleeping. I haven't even had much energy for knitting, though I did get some done. So, the stash pictures will have to wait for now. I'm just not up for it.

I have a few moments right now to write, since I'm cooking something that needs to be watched over, and there's nothing else I feel like doing in the kitchen (plus my sweet mommy worked hard cleaning it earlier - ain't I a lucky girl). So, here we are.

Now, I know you're wondering about the post title, and what on earth I could have been thinking. No, I'm not delirious from fever. I'm talking about my mother. What!?!?! For those not up on the current knitting/crochet slang, a hooker is a person who does crochet. What did you think it was? Get your mind out of the gutter, please. So, my mom taught herself how to crochet many moons ago and hasn't done much since learning (I vaguely remember seeing a crochet bag she made in the late 70's or early 80's and some little angels of hers always dressed up our Christmas tree). Seeing all my yarn around must have inspired her to see if she still had the touch. She can't throw herself into it the way I have done with knitting, because she's got carpal tunnel problems in her wrists (darn office job!). But, apparently, it's like riding a bike. You never forget how. She rather quickly crocheted up a little swatch. I was throroughly impressed, I must say.

Also, my 3 1/2-year-old daughter has come up with a new hobby. You'll be happy to hear that she, too, has taken up knitting - sort of. She has confiscated Grandma's crochet, and grabbed up a pair of tiny knitting needles given to her by her other (knitting) grandmother. She wraps the yarn around her left index finger just like Mommy (that's my girl!), sticks her needles into the middle of Grandma's swatch and twists and twirls till her heart's content. She's made her knitting mommy very proud. Hey, at least she's got the right motion down, even if she doesn't really know how to do it. Brings tears to my eyes, but that could be the fever talking....

About Me

Theoretical linguist by education, stay-at-home mommy by trade. Nearing - no strike that - moving away from 30 more and more by the minute. If you can make it with food, yarn or cloth, I'm in. I live in a rural area of Southern France, furiously creating for my son, daughters, husband and anyone else who may give me the excuse to test my talents while attempting to limit my impact on the world around me.